It’s 1:22 AM. I just came in from the balcony, having finished a smoke and a mug of coffee out there. A slight rain earlier – nothing to raise an alarm about, just a misting of moisture when I was half-asleep inside. But the remnants of the rain clung to the sidewalk, the parking lot, and other structures in the area.nnI stood on the balcony, smoking and sipping – the birds retired to their nests. The crickets apprehensive about making mating calls, as the temps are likely to drop to the upper-50’s by sunrise. Neighbors all shut-in for the night, lights off everywhere. I stood in silence, my floor fan whirring in the background behind me, just inside the sliding glass door. Overcast, starless, moonless, damp silence.nnNo special epiphanies rang over me as I stood there. Not a drop of armchair philosophizing. No overall “bend” or “arc” to this or that. An empty mind, yet always thinking. Hell, 15 books could be written about all I thought about – I remember none of it, and some of which I may never think of again.nnI know now, or *think of* now – now that I am thinking about thinking – is that I am grateful. Grateful for life and creating and maintaining good health. On the verge of 40, and all too happy to leave the 30’s behind me. nnWhatever is next, I am going towards it, and I am happy to get there.

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